Now that the winter holidays are behind us we can get back to normal things— like
playing D&D! Friday night we got together for session 6 of my D&D adventure/mini-campaign, The City of the Dead.
Recall from session 5, six weeks ago now, that
the heroes had fought through a phalanx of undead creatures in the ruins of the long-abandoned city of Graymount. There were zombies, ghouls, ghasts, worgs (not undead but still dangerous), and a wraith.
Worn down but unbowed they pushed further through the ruined city while daylight was on their side. They located the body of Father Terence's elder, the High Cleric Baynor. Well, a
magic spell located it. They learned it was locked within a corrupted temple— and guarded by some really powerful evil thing.
As the curtained opened on session 6 the group made its final decision at the steps of the fallen temple. They would leave Graymount with the information gathered thus far, regroup in their home city of Durendal to recover and resupply, and return here with more strength and preparation to recover Baynor's body and free his spirit from its own corruption. This was a
wise decision.
Oh, but they couldn't go home empty-handed. Part of their cover story to the powers that be to go on this mission was to investigate the disappearance of a merchant caravan that traveled (unwisely) through Graymount. Indeed they'd already found parts of that caravan. Several of the caravan members were among the ghouls and ghasts who ambushed them that morning! And crashed in a sinkhole beneath the street was one of the caravan's wagons, its cargo splayed out at the bottom of the pit.
Down in the Tunnel
Two of the team climbed down a knotted rope into the pit. The "pit" was actually a tunnel beneath the street. Here, as in one other spot they'd found in town, the tunnel was too near the surface and the street had collapsed into it. Anyway, Herran and Terence descended into the pit to figure out what cargo they could salvage. They'd tie ropes around it to haul up with their friends' help. Meanwhile their friends, Astrin, Duncan, and Meraxes, stood guard up on the road.
Good news! Some of the wagon's cargo was recoverable. Among other things were two small kegs of Gnomish aliantha wine, an expensive delicacy. Then Terence and Herran heard a noise.
Clip-clop, clip-clop. The sound of hooves echoing.
Clippity-clop, clippity-clop, the cadence grows faster. And louder.
Clop-a-lop, clop-a-lop, whatever’s coming has broken into a charge!
Terence and Herran readied attacks against whatever might emerge from the darkness. Into their circle of light charges a disfigured mule, with a broken leg swinging wildly, chunks of flesh hanging loose, and a malign glow blazing from its gouged-out eye sockets. It’s a zombie mule! And not just
any zombie mule but the evil animated corpse of the group's animal Herran had left for dead at the bottom of the other cave-in. It charged straight at Herran.
The two engaged the zombie mule. The creature's charge had come so fast the pair's allies above on the street hadn't had time to react yet, but now they joined in the effort. Except as they joined to reinforce Herran and Terence, more undead creatures joined the fight, too! Two
bükken emerged from behind the wrecked wagon, clawing wildly at Terence. Then a wraith emerged from the wall of the tunnel.
Recall that a wraith is a ghostly monster, a shadow in the darkness. Its incorporeal shape can pass through walls and is hard to strike— indeed only magic weapons and spells can touch it, and even those have a 50/50 miss chance. It resembles who or what it was in life before it was slain by other wraiths and raised as one of them. This wraith's wispy body it dressed in wispy armor and robes, a twisted holy symbol of Charonne still showing. It’s
the corrupted soul of Father Baynor again!
Wraith Baynor hisses, “This time I will destroy your allies first,” as he reaches out to Herran. The group knows the wraith's icy touch from beyond the grave can drain a person's vitality. As few as two strikes can be fatal. But fortunately for Herran the wraith misses as today the GM can’t roll better than an 8.
Terrence, still with his holy symbol in hand from fighting the mule zombie, channels his deity's power to repel the undead. He gets a baller roll and turns as a 10th level cleric. Unfortunately the weaker undead are closest and absorb the damage. The two bükken are dusted; the zombie mule gallops away on its turn. The wraith, grinning malevolently, is unaffected.
Meraxes, from above, fires down a salvo of Magic Missiles. Force attacks vs. incorporeal foes FTW! It’s less than 10 HP damage but every bit helps.
Then Astrin steps up to turn. The wraith is strong enough that her chances of affecting it are poor, but it’s the best move she has. She holds aloft her sword and intones, “By the power of Morgarath, BEGONE!” The winter light reflects off her blade as the tunnel echoes her command. She scored a totally baller roll with her Turn Undead attack. The wraith isn’t destroyed, but it is turned.
Now the team piles on. Herran goes full-attack on the shade and slashes it several times. Meraxes fires another Magic Missile salvo. The wraith begins to flee back into the tunnel wall, but Herran gets a luck AoO strike and destroys it.
FLAWLESS VICTORY!
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When area codes were first established in 1947, dialing a phone worked by spinning a rotary wheel, or dial. That's where the whole verb of "dialing" a phone comes from! You'd spin the wheel one direction with your finger, using guide slots for each particular number. After each spin a spring would spin the dial back, transmitting an electrical pulse across the phone line as each detent was passed. So a 1 was 1 pulse, a 2 was 2 pulses, etc. Zero, all the way around the dial, was 10 pulses.
